


the sweat in your eyes / the blood in your veins

by carrionkidafterdark (carrionkid)



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Bad Decisions, Character Study, Foe Yay, Ill Advised Hookups, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, One Night Stands, References to Daredevil 181
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-20 21:36:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21063569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrionkid/pseuds/carrionkidafterdark
Summary: this is a desperately horny but tonally weird character exploration fic that spiraled utterly out of control. it's been jokingly nicknamed the 'character sexploration' despite absolutely zero on page sex happening. takes place some time after daredevil #290. surprisingly tender but weird and ill advised hookups and the aftermath. the title comes from 'the only time' by nine inch nails-He figures today is a particularly self destructive day. One where he tempts fate, holds his hands to the flame, letting it lick across his skin. Happens a lot, but he doesn't mind too much 'cos it makes him feel real.So he lets the Devil catch him today. Lets himself get cornered, 'cos he can manage it okay when it's on his terms, when he's in control. And heisin control. Even if it doesn't look that way.They're on the roof of the exact building he wants to be on and he knows damn well that the Devil won't go too far, he'll make it out alive no matter what.





	the sweat in your eyes / the blood in your veins

He figures today is a particularly self destructive day. One where he tempts fate, holds his hands to the flame, letting it lick across his skin. Happens a lot, but he doesn't mind too much 'cos it makes him feel real.

So he lets the Devil catch him today. Lets himself get cornered, 'cos he can manage it okay when it's on his terms, when he's in control. And he  _ is  _ in control. Even if it doesn't look that way.

They're on the roof of the exact building he wants to be on and he knows damn well that the Devil won't go too far, he'll make it out alive no matter what.

(Didn't even mean to drop him off the building, Bullseye knows it was an accident. Should've killed him, falling that far, and he's damn lucky no one just let him bleed out there, barely even alive, splattered all over the concrete. Which is why he  _ knows _ the altar boy didn't do it on purpose.)

Murdock's got him pinned against the wall. Doesn't want to play tonight, no song and dance, no skirting around it, happened as soon as Bullseye let him catch up. Forearm pressed into his clavicles, holding him fast in place without choking him.

But they're facing each other, so fucking close he can feel breath on his cheeks, like the Devil wants to talk and he's feeling pretty good about tonight. Feels like he'll get whatever he's looking for, whatever clarity he'll reach through broken bones and busted lips and black eyes.

Before Murdock starts on whatever proselytizing speech he's trying this evening, Bullseye darts forwards as far as he can and kisses the Devil. Nice and quick, just a little peck. Leaves a smear of blood over Murdock's lip, fresh from the first blows they traded.

"Always wanted to try that," he laughs, figures Red would clean his clock for doing it, but it's not even a lie.

And Murdock smiles, dictionary definition of a devilish grin, "Is that so?"

"Been dreaming about it for years."

The Devil laughs, so sharp and full, "You've done more than just  _ dream. _ I can hear you, you know?"

His face gets flushed, burning so damn hot. Didn't even consider that possibility, didn't cross his mind during a single one of those lonely nights. Shouldn't've enjoyed it as much as he did, after everything Murdock did to him, but nothing worked quite as well.

"Bet you enjoyed it, huh? Bet you like listening in," he grins like a man possessed, wants to rile the Devil up more than anything.

"If you keep talking like that, I'm gonna think you've been putting on a show for me."

Nothing about it lines up, almost makes him think he's hallucinating again, but that hasn't happened in a good while. Finally got a handle on things, got on an even keel for once.

Red’s staring at him, terrible half smile playing on his lips, "Avoiding the question, huh? That almost makes me think you're guilty as charged."

"What if I was?" He says, throat suddenly too dry.

Wasn't doing it on purpose, but he's hopeless, just says whatever he thinks people want to hear. Whatever will get him where he wants to be.

And he's  _ right _ where he wants to be, didn't know it until now, 'cos the Devil kisses him back. Still is pinning him to the wall but he's being so soft and gentle, licking over the split in Bullseye's lip.

When Murdock pulls back, he's breathless, "What say we go somewhere more private?"

See, he picked this building because it's where he's holed up these days and it's easier when he doesn't have so far to crawl back home and lick his wounds once he's been beaten black and blue. But it works for this, too. Works out so damn well for him because the longer they have to wise up to how stupid this is, the more likely it is that the Devil will leave him high and dry.

"Desperate, aren't you?" Murdock laughs.

"Mm, got a nice little place downstairs, safe from prying eyes."

The Devil scoffs at that, "You want me to come downstairs with  _ you?  _ Planning on luring me somewhere and killing me, are you?"

"You tell me if that's what I'm planning," he whispers, worrying his lower lip with his teeth, feeling out the warmth resting in the pit of his stomach.

And when Murdock doesn't answer, he drops his voice to a whisper, "It's one of the places where I hole up sometimes. More private than a fucking rooftop."

Truth is, he's been there for a while. Between housing situations at the moment and he likes this one best of all. Fisk owns the building, says it's under renovation. New office for one of his shell companies, which means it'll never be finished and he'll always be able to hide there.

"Alright. Show me the way."

* * *

They've been restrained so far, but all bets are off once they're in the stairwell. Red grabs him soon as the door's shut behind 'em, nipping at his lips, trying to lick into his mouth.

"Shh," Bullseye pulls away just enough to breathe, "Let's get downstairs first. Wanna enjoy this."

Murdock nods and it's almost enough to go right to his head that he can tell the Devil what to do and he'll do it without question.

They've only got to go down a couple of floors before they're at his place. And he's surprised Murdock even follows him into the office space, but he does.

Pretty nice set-up he's got, all things considered. Pushed two couches together and laid a futon mattress between them, piled it up with anything soft he could get his hands on. Makes him feel at ease, surrounded on all sides. 

Got a lot of little trinkets, too. Leads the Devil around them all with a light step, 'cos he knows who's under the mask, even if neither of them will admit it.

When they're by his bed, if you could call it that, he takes his turn grabbing Murdock. Would've gone for his neck if he wasn't wearing the mask, but he's happy grazing his teeth along the exposed curve of the Devil's jaw.

And then Murdock stops him, puts a gap between them, "You can't tell anyone about this. Do you hear me?"

"Gonna hurt my reputation as much as it'll hurt yours,  _ deardevil _ ."

"Say it. Say you understand me."

"Mum's the word, baby. Now are you gonna play along? I'm getting lonely over here," he drawls, pulling off his mask.

"You're always just  _ begging _ for my attention, aren't you?"

Maybe if he wasn't so riled up already, Murdock's cocky, arrogant tone would piss him off, make him want to hit the Devil where it hurts. But right now, he's just filled with this kind of  _ want. _ This perfect fantasy come to life.

Almost ruins it all, stops himself just shy of saying  _ I bet I'll be better than Elektra. _

"You're the one that always comes for me, though. Always wanna deal with me personally."

And Murdock kisses him again, doesn't want to admit they reached a stalemate. Lets his fingers trail down to the Devil's waist, toying with his belt.

"Don't think for a second that I'll let you get your hands on my billy clubs," Murdock growls, nips at his ear after the threat.

"And here I thought that was the whole point of this ordeal."

"You  _ know _ what I mean."

He laughs, suddenly stuck by the overwhelming need to  _ touch.  _ Peels off his gloves and drops them to the floor, next to his mask. Runs his fingers over the Devil's suit, impossibly soft leather and scuffed pieces of armor.

Murdock doesn't make any move to undress, though. Sets his teeth on edge just a bit, like maybe this all was a mistake. But it feels so good, so far.

He smirks, tracing his pointer finger over Murdock's chest, "Make yourself at home, why don'tcha?" 

"You live  _ here _ ?"

"Sometimes," he admits.

And he doesn’t want to see the change in Murdock’s face when he realizes it’s a truth, so he makes himself busy untying his boots. Sets them aside next to his bed, folding up the gloves and mask to match. Unclips his belt and adds it to the pile.

Then, he catches the zipper to his suit, makes it about halfway down before Murdock says, “I’m  _ not  _ getting undressed. Just enough for this to work and nothing more.”

“Can you at least take your fucking shoes off? Don’t be a goddamn animal. That’s my  _ bed.” _

He peels the rest of the way out of the suit while the Devil unstraps his shin-guards, unlaces his own boots. Bullseye’s lucky enough that he takes off some more of his armor, guards and bracers and the like. Odds never are even; Red’s a brawler, working on brute force alone. He’s lightweight, needs to be in order to run, keep quiet.

Ends up standing in front of Murdock in just his undershirt and underwear, holding his breath. There’s this twisted feeling of safety wrapping its way around his heart. He knows who’s under the mask  and he knows that Murdock can’t see him, and even if he could, the Devil’s masked eyes are so vacant he might be able to trick himself into relaxing anyway.

It’s almost funny. Wants attention so bad it fucking hurts, but he doesn’t want to be seen.

Murdock reaches out and smooths a hand over the goose-bumped skin of his arm. Figures it’d be too much to ask, but Bullseye’s contemplating  _ begging  _ him to take off the gloves. Murdock’s a pragmatist, though; doesn’t want to leave any evidence that he’s been here, not even fingerprints.

“What are you thinking about,” Murdock whispers, “When you’re calling my name?”

It’s downright fucking embarrassing, barely even wants to admit it. But he can’t manage a lie right now, not when the only thing on his mind is Murdock and how close they are and his stomach’s doing  flips.

“Mostly just you talkin’ to me. Telling me that I’m doin' oh so  _ good _ for you, all nice and gentle-like.”

Murdock laughs, but it’s not sharp enough to make him angry, real quiet and private. Backs him into the edge of the makeshift bed and slips a hand up his undershirt. Makes him shiver something awful, feeling the worn leather of Red’s gloves against his exposed skin, moving from his waist upwards.

He lets Murdock pull his undershirt off, lets the Devil mouth at the hollow of his neck like he's trying to mark him. He's more than a little into the idea, same principle behind all the bruises, just awfully gentle.

"Fuck,  _ Red,"  _ he whines, honest to god whines, gonna need to be careful with what he says, though, 'cos it's all gonna be over if Murdock finds out he knows who he is.

Murdock bites down lightly at that, makes him fucking  _ moan _ , kind of caught halfway in his throat 'cos he's so used to staying quiet. And then the Devil's hands wander on down to his waist, brush against the taut stretch of his belly, electric jolt down to the pit of his stomach.

"If I didn't know you," he breathes, arms wrapped 'round Murdock, "I'd say you were excited for this."

Red shuts him up by kissing him and he's not too mad about it. Parts his lips for Bullseye, letting him lick into his mouth for a change. But he's not the one in control right now, isn't too sure how he feels about it but he sure as shit likes the way Murdock nudges him backwards onto the bed.

Settles down on his back, splayed out like he's putting on a show and he ends up thinking about how strange it is that he's only comfortable posing for a blind man. That is, up until the Devil joins him. Then, he can’t think at all.

Murdock’s terrible, folding over Bullseye to kiss him senseless, desperate and needy with one gloved hand pressed against his bare thigh.

"Fucking hell," he laughs, drags his tongue along the exposed curve of Murdock's jaw, taking stock of how that makes the hand on his thigh tighten, "You're tryin' to torture me, aren't you?"

Murdock’s fingers creep agonizingly higher up his leg, “Patience  _ is  _ a virtue.”

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” He laughs, quick and sharp, “You think this is a ‘let’s take our time, savor it all’ type situation?”

“It could be, if we wanted that.”

For a moment there, he’s scared out of his mind. Not scared of Murdock, no, not at all. He’s scared that the whole world’s gone insane, that he woke up in the wrong damn place and everything’s all twisted up and distorted and  _ different.  _ That nothing’s where it’s supposed to be anymore and he’s gonna have to relearn the entire fucking universe.

And  _ obviously  _ the Devil notices, much as Bullseye despises the idea, because he eases the grip on him just a bit, pulls back to give a little space, “Or maybe not.”

Smooths his thumb in little gentle circles across the soft skin of Bullseye’s inner thigh, makes his hips twitch, lets out this terrible, needy sound.

“Are you this  _ responsive  _ for everybody? Or am I just special?”

It really goes right to his head--a couple other places, too--but it’s the principle of the matter that gets him choking out, “Do me a favor and shut up, will ya?”

Red does so dutifully, mouthing at his shoulder, trying to leave another mark. He’s half tempted to take matters into his own hands and take care of everything himself rather than wait a second longer. But that’d ruin it all.

He works his way out of his underwear, gets a little bit of help from the Devil in the process. It’s strange, real goddamn strange, lying buck-ass naked next to the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen himself and hoping,  _ hoping,  _ he’ll get fucked stupid.

Murdock’s hand moves from his thigh, resting against his belly for a second before slipping up towards his chest. He’s right next to Bullseye, nose brushing against his cheek, almost soft, almost reverent. 

“Are you gonna be good for me, Ben?”

“Call me anything other than Bullseye again,” he hisses, hand wrapped tight around Red’s wrist, not enough to hurt, just as a warning, “And I’m calling this off.”

“Of course,  _ Bullseye.” _

He doesn’t give Murdock the option to fuck it up again; takes over kissing him desperately, fumbling mindlessly with the Devil’s belt as a show of good faith, ‘cos he really does want this. Doesn’t know why he’s going along with this, feels like it’s too good to be true.

Red takes over for him ‘cos he’s hopeless, too damn distracted by everything else. Undoes his belt and drops it off the bed, unzips something or another after that. Isn’t too sure how the Devil’s suit works but it seems like it’s two pieces instead of one and he really, really doesn’t care. Just wants everything to stay in motion, nothing else to interrupt them.

And it’s good, real good right now. He’s at home here, knows he’s got knives stashed under the pillow if he thinks things are headed in a bad direction, but it’s good. Murdock’s warm and he’s so damn  close and they’re moving in sync; two sides of the same coin.

* * *

He’s holding his breath, just kind of languishing in the afterglow. Weirdest part of this whole fucking insane situation is that Murdock’s still here. Figured he’d have left about fifteen minutes ago, but he’s lying right next to Bullseye.

“There really isn’t much space here. Is this seriously just two couches shoved together?”

“With a  _ futon,”  _ he mutters, lying on his stomach with his head resting on his folded arms, straight as a board so they both fit alright, “And it’s usually just me, anyway.”

The Devil’s taken to running his hand against Bullseye’s scalp, bristling up his shaved hair with each pass over. It’s so damn gentle it almost hurts, like they’re normal people.

He cranes his head just slightly so he can get a better look at the Devil, “Told you I’d kill you one day.”

And he did, made Murdock come undone, calling his name, singing his praises, the little death. 

“ _ Clever _ ,” the Devil says, face flushed, “You won’t tell anyone about this, _ will you _ ?”

He laughs, eyes shut, just taking in the feeling of being near someone, “Course not, Fisk would crush my head like a fucking egg.”

“Good,” Red makes this little pleased sound and then he pulls away from Bullseye, leaves him cold and alone.

He turns to watch again, doesn’t quite want to ask for Murdock to touch him again even if he’s aching for it. And then the Devil peels off one of his gloves, goes right back to stroking his scalp. The feeling of skin against skin makes him shiver, doubly so when Murdock’s hand drifts down to the small of his back, thumbing aimlessly over the base of his spine.

“Not in the mood for round two,” he whispers.

Truth is, he’s tired and he’s waiting for the catch. Waiting for whatever the Devil wants in return. The more he thinks about all of this, the less it makes sense and he doesn’t much like it when things don’t line up.

Murdock trails his fingers back upwards without a word, ghosting over his backbone, coming to rest at the nape of his neck. It’s terrifying how at ease he feels, knows damn well Red could knock him out right here, right now.

“Did I do that?” The Devil asks, laughing like he’s proud of it.

Bullseye knows he’s talking about the scar. Nasty one, running the length of his torso. So fucking uneven, shiny, stretched out ravine of scar tissue, that Murdock could feel it just from brushing his fingertips across it.

“That’s from where they rebuilt my spine,” he admits.

The Devil keeps tracing the knot of mangled flesh near the base of his neck, “What kind of a doctor does that sloppy of a job?”

He growls, low in the back of his throat, “The kind that doesn’t care if you live or die. Doesn’t help that somebody else opened it back up and shoved some fucking metal in there. But at least I can walk again.”

It kills the mood about as much as he thought it would. Almost regrets saying it. Murdock stills completely, resting his hand warm and heavy against Bullseye’s back.

“I know you didn’t do it on purpose,” he whispers, figures it’s too late to stop all this now, “It was an accident.”

Murdock hisses, voice cold and sharp, “What are you  _ talking  _ about?”

“That shoulda killed me. Honestly. Shoulda died right then and there, just was lucky enough to make it. And you don’t  _ kill.  _ Not  _ anyone,  _ at least not on purpose. So it was an accident. And it’s all real hazy but I know you were holdin’ onto me and I slipped and I shoulda died but I didn’t. You were downright fuckin’ livid with me and you still were holdin’ onto me so I wouldn’t fall. That’s what  matters, not that I fell anyway.”

Red pulls his hand back right quick. Gets up out of the bed after that and Bullseye rolls over so he can watch Murdock just a little bit longer. He slides his glove back on, collects his belt and his shin-guards and his bracers and all the other little pieces of his armor. Clips his belt back on.

Maybe he could stop it, but it’s ruined now. Just wouldn’t be the same anymore.

The Devil opens up one of the windows and crawls out, getting back to his city.

Doesn’t bother to close it behind him and Bullseye’s fucking cold so he gets up and pulls it shut. Latches it, too, even if it doesn’t matter ‘cos he was so stupid, so caught up in the moment, that he burnt one of his favorite places to hole up.

He settles back down on the bed, soaking up the last of the leftover warmth. Gonna have to pack up and run, but he’s hoping the Devil will at least give him the night for a head-start.


End file.
